


The Spirit of Elan

by HospitalCorners



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Extreme cuteness warning, F/F, Oh - and a bit of smut - but with feelings, maximum fluff, zero angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-17 16:26:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10597800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HospitalCorners/pseuds/HospitalCorners
Summary: A tiny fast-forward to early 1963. It’s Delia’s birthday and Patsy has gone all-out to make it special…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Complete fluff and nonsense.  
> With a bit of added sauciness a bit later maybe...? Just for the heck of it ;-)

Saturday the 6th of April 1963 dawned clear and settled, with a gentle warmth that was hopeful for the summer to come.  
Patsy sat in the window of the Silver Buckle cafe, sipping a cup of black coffee and enjoying a smoke in the welcome sunshine. The winter they had just endured had been one of the worst on record.  
Only a couple of weeks after she’d returned from Hong Kong, the snow had started in earnest, and continued right through into early March, before a slow thaw had finally begun. It had been a true test of endurance as communities the country over - Poplar included - battled against the elements. It had been cold - brutally so - and the winter darkness had seemed endless.  
For herself and Delia in particular, the whole of last year had been dark, but for very different reasons.

Early in the new year, a large parcel had arrived from Hong Kong. It contained a last few personal items of her father’s and also all the documents pertaining to her inheritance of his estate. She had looked through it all carefully and in private, digesting it all, and tried to make sense of what it meant for her and Delia’s future. In the following weeks, she’d gradually accepted the change in her circumstances and felt that the time was right to talk to Delia about it. 

Now, sitting in the sunny window seat of the cafe, waiting for Delia to arrive, Patsy felt a new sense of optimism. 

Today was Delia’s 26th birthday.  
For Patsy, Delia’s birthday always seemed to herald the change of the season, echoing the move from winter into spring - bursting with life and excitement. They always made sure that they took time to celebrate their respective birthdays. This year, Delia’s fell on a weekend, and they had both arranged their leave requests well in advance. This time, it would be a weekend away from Poplar, and Patsy had spent the last month arranging something that she hoped would be fun, but also very special and significant for both of them.

Earlier in the week she’d written Delia a note:

'Deels.  
It’s your birthday weekend!  
Meet me at the Silver Buckle - Saturday morning at ten o’clock sharp.  
Pack an overnight bag.  
Dress code: practical - but stylish!  
P x'

She’d popped it in a small envelope and left it on Delia’s pillow for her to find on return from her shift.

Since Patsy had returned from Hong Kong, she and Delia had made visits to the Silver Buckle and the Gateways much more regularly. She very much wanted to move forward with Delia now - more than she ever had - and she knew that Delia wanted that more than anything too.

On several occasions, as the bus had carried them west through the snowy streets to the Gateways Club - or during a late-night taxi ride home - Patsy had seen Delia’s eyes drawn to a particular establishment along the route - and a particular item for sale there. 

It had planted the seed of an idea…and so, a few days ago, on a free afternoon when Delia was still on shift, she made her way up west to make a purchase and arrange it’s delivery.

Now, she sat waiting for Delia, feeling both excited and apprehensive. How would Delia react? Positively, she hoped…  
She felt slightly giddy at the amount of money she’d spent - although, it hadn’t really made much of a dent in her inheritance. And it would be worth it - this was just the start of what she hoped would be a new beginning for both of them.

Just then, the bell on the cafe door rang brightly, announcing Delia’s entrance - right on time, as always. She caught Patsy’s eye and grinned, making her way over to the window seats. Patsy quickly stubbed-out her cigarette and stood up, leaning in to greet her love with a continental-style hug and kiss on the cheek. Lots of girls did that these days, and Patsy was slowly learning that this apparent easy familiarity between two ‘friends’ was unlikely to be misconstrued as anything else.

She leaned back then and quickly took in Delia’s figure, bottom to top: a pair of shiny, white patent-leather lace-ups encased small feet; then bare ankles and shins; neatly fitting capri pants in navy blue; a white blouse with blue polka-dots, and finally the glorious, glossy dark locks held in a thick, high pony-tail. She carried a blueish-green cotton blazer over her arm and her overnight bag in her hand. She looked so very pretty, and Patsy’s heart suddenly flipped and fluttered about in her chest like an excited butterfly.

Delia smiled brightly, eyes flitting from Patsy’s lips to her eyes and back again “Does my attire meet with your approval then?”

“It certainly does Deels - you look lovely” Patsy grinned, “Excellent choice of footwear too. Heels would have been a mistake…” she added cryptically. 

At Delia’s querying eyebrows she quickly changed the subject, continuing “Would you like a coffee before we get going?”

“Oh - no thanks Pats. I grabbed a quick cuppa before coming to meet you… I had a feeling you’d want to get cracking!”

“Excellent!” Patsy winked, quickly drained her coffee cup and grabbed her things “OK then - let’s get the celebrations underway!”

——————

The morning was warming up nicely as they walked along the street side-by-side 

“So, where are we heading Pats - are you ever going to tell me the plan?”

Patsy glanced down at Delia “Well, I thought we might take a run down to Brighton” then added “Well, Hove actually…”  
Then, just as they were about to round the corner into the next road, Patsy placed a hand lightly on Delia’s arm, drawing them to a slower pace. “…but we won’t get far without this” she continued, pulling a ribbon-tied box from her bag and handing it to Delia.

Delia hesitantly took the box, slowly untied the yellow ribbon and lifted the lid.  
Inside was a pair of black Ray-Ban Wayfarers nestled on top of a teal and navy coloured silk scarf. Patsy silently congratulated herself on the colour choice - it would match the smaller woman’s outfit today perfectly!

“Oh - I’ve always wanted a pair of Ray-Bans, and this scarf is beautiful!” Delia exclaimed happily. She was lifting these two items out of the box as they rounded the street corner - and then noticed a set of keys still sitting in the bottom of the box. She lifted them up, holding them in front of her face, brows furrowed, “Patsy, what’s this…?”

“Happy birthday Deels” Patsy touched Delia’s arm again and nodded to a spot in the street a few feet ahead.

Following Patsy’s gaze, the sight before her stopped Delia in her tracks. Her jaw literally dropped.  
There, parked at the kerbside, was the neatest little sports car she’d ever seen. Cute as a button it was - the shiny paintwork a bright, sunny yellow - and it had a black soft-top.  
Still clutching the sunglasses and scarf, Delia distractedly handed the empty box back to Patsy. Silently, she walked over to the little car and circled all the way round it, stepping back, then forwards, viewing it from every angle - even hunkering down at one point to view it as though from road level.

Meanwhile, Patsy could only look on in trepidation - this was going to go one of two ways…

Finally Delia turned, finding her voice.  
“This is a ’62 Lotus Elan, drop-head roadster. 1,558cc twin-cam, steel chassis, fibre-glass body, four-wheel independent suspension with a peachy power-to-weight ratio….”

Patsy swallowed, and blinked.  
It was as if Delia had suddenly started speaking a foreign language…talking like a Kings Road grease-monkey - only much, much cuter…  
It was bizarrely attractive actually. How on earth did she know all that…car-stuff? Patsy made a mental note to find out later…

Delia’s voice continued, focussing Patsy’s attention back on the moment.  
“Patsy, is this the same car I’ve been noticing for months? This can’t be for me…how did you…where did you…how did it get here!?”

Patsy took a deep, steadying breath and began to relate why and how the car came to be here…  
“….so then I asked the sales chap if he could deliver it here, park it up and then pop the keys in to me a Nonnatus early this morning.” she finished.

Delia nodded slowly “…I wondered why you were up and out before me so early this morning…”

Patsy looked at the smaller woman sheepishly “Do you like it though? You haven’t said you like it…” worry edging into her voice.

Delia gazed up at Patsy steadily “Cripes Patsy, I LOVE it - but, I just can’t believe it…” then added quietly “and how on earth are we going to explain it…?”

Patsy put her arm around the smaller woman’s shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze.  
“This is your birthday Deels and I want you to enjoy it. What if we don’t get too far ahead of ourselves just now?” and then continued “would it make it easier if I said the car was most certainly yours - but also OURS?”  
Then turning to face Delia again “This is just one part of what I have planned this weekend - for you - and for us” she explained, “there’s a lot that I need to talk to you about Deels, but I want it all to be fun and exciting for us both - hence the weekend away. Does that sound OK?”

Delia nodded again “OK, I can go with that just now” then she smiled up at Patsy all dimples and sparkling eyes, “You know, I really, really want to scream and hug and kiss you right now…”

Relief washed over Patsy, she chuckled and then quickly scanned the street, “Well, there’s actually no-one about to see, so by all means please do” adding with a grin “maybe just the hugging and the kissing though - not the screaming…”

And then she was enveloped in a diminutive Welsh whirlwind of a hug - and in between lots of giggles - received several quick, firm kisses planted squarely on her lips.

——————  
TBC  
——————


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some hot Delia driving action - can Patsy handle it??

——————

Patsy finally managed to untangle herself from a delirious Delia.  
“Hadn’t you better try her for size Deels?” she suggested, nodding to the car.

“Oh, yes!” came the breathless reply.  
Delia scooted round to the driver-side, unlocked the door and hopped in. The door closed with a satisfyingly solid ‘thunk!’.

Patsy leaned down and peered in through the passenger-side window.  
She could see Delia’s lips moving and could hear her excited, albeit muffled chattering. She rapped her knuckles lightly on the window, signalling for it to be opened.  
Delia paused, realised there were no window winders, quickly scanned the interior and then reached forward and pressed a button on the dash. With a quiet, electronic hum, the window slid down smoothly.

“Oh my God Pats - it’s got electric windows!!”

Patsy laughed “I’m surprised you didn’t know that, given your seemingly encyclopaedic knowledge of this car…”  
Then she leaned closer, put on an exaggeration of her most seductive tone, and continued “You know… I was thinking… maybe we could go topless…?”

Delia snorted, “Pats, I’m all for your new-found joie de vivre, but really - that’s going to get us into some serious trouble!”

Patsy winked, replying “It might… or we could just take this off…?” glancing upwards and drumming her fingers on the soft-top.

Delia cocked an eyebrow, “Marvellous idea Mount - I like your style!”  
She jumped back out of the car and they both worked to unclip all the catches that secured the black, canvas roof. Between them, they managed to fold it carefully and then stow it in the small boot space. Placing their bags and coats on top, they closed and locked the boot lid.

Patsy walked round to the drivers door, held it open, and in her best approximation of a footman, pronounced, “Madam, your carriage awaits…”

Delia inclined her head regally, ran her hand lightly over Patsy’s shoulder as she passed, and slid into the snug driving seat.  
Patsy closed the door softly after her and stepped round to the passenger side. She managed to fold her longer frame into the small interior - not entirely elegantly. Thank goodness she’d worn jeans today…

She glanced over at Delia and marvelled at how well the car suited her. It almost fitted her compact figure like a glove - as if it had been made to measure.  
The leather seat hugged her form, holding her snuggly; the foot pedals were small and neat - just like her feet; the top of her head sat just a couple of inches below the top of the windscreen. It was perfection.

Delia shot Patsy a wink and reached behind the steering wheel to fire the ignition, but Patsy placed a gently restraining hand on her arm.  
“Now.” she grinned, “Open-top motoring is all very well, but it really can play havoc with ones coiffure and mascara” then added, “I suggest we don some protective apparel.”  
At Delia’s non-plussed expression, she reached into the small glove-compartment and fished out her own sunglasses, along with a green silk scarf.

“Ah…” Delia nodded and retrieved her new ray-bans and scarf from the dash. Then, with scarves and sunglasses on, they turned to each other and nodded their approval.

Delia laughed, “I feel like a movie-star!”

Patsy smiled softly “Darling, you LOOK like a movie-star!”

Delia looked at Patsy over the tops of her ray-bans, “Charmer!” then reached round the wheel and turned the key.

The little Elan’s big engine roared into life, and the whole car vibrated with a deep, satisfying rumble. Delia turned to Patsy - a huge grin lit her face - eyebrows visible well above the rims of her glasses. “Oh wow!” she breathed, “It’s been a while since I drove, but I can’t wait - this is going to be SO much fun!”

Patsy knew that Delia had a driving licence, but suddenly she realised that she couldn’t recall ever having seen her drive.  
“Deels - how long HAS it been…?” a tremor of concern in her voice - why was this only occurring to her now…?

“Gosh - I think it must be about five years or so since I last drove…” Delia replied, adding “yes, I remember - it was Auntie Blod’s 1938 Morgan 4/4…” she smiled at the memory “on a quiet Sunday morning in East Finchley…” she laughed then, “woke the whole street when we started her up!”

Delia turned and caught Patsy’s worried expression “Pats, don’t worry, it’s like riding a bike - you never forget.”  
Only after the words had left her mouth, did she realise what she’d said.

Patsy’s expression instantly shifted from mild concern to utter horror “Deels!” she gasped, “are you trying to give me a heart-attack?”

“God - sorry Pats!”  
Lifting her glasses to her brow, Delia gazed steadily at Patsy, “Do you trust me?” she whispered.

Patsy took a steadying breath and looked over her rims “Yes, I do Deels.”

Delia nodded and smiled gently.  
She dropped her glasses back into place, blipped the accelerator pedal and the engine growled “Let’s see what this little lady can do!”

With that, Delia released the hand-brake and dipped the clutch pedal, she gripped the gear stick, shifted to first gear, blipped the accelerator again to raise the revs slightly, eased off the clutch and pulled smoothly away from the kerb.

They were off!  
——————

Driving south across London gave Delia some time to familiarise herself with the feel of the car before they hit the open road. Shifting up and down through the gears as they navigated the streets, she felt her confidence grow. The two women and their flashy little sports car did not go unnoticed either, earning admiring glances from passers by. At one point, while stopped at traffic lights, they received loud whoops and wolf-whistles from a group of youths outside a cafe.  
Patsy pouted and blew them a kiss, as Delia rolled her eyes, gunned the engine and roared away from the lights.

Soon, they cleared the outskirts of the city and the open roads beckoned.  
They sped through the Kent and Surrey countryside and onwards into Sussex on winding roads, rolling farmland whizzing by on either side. Delia began to relax fully and put her trust in the nimble little car. With it’s low centre of gravity and wide stance, it felt as though it was glued to the road - and cornered as if on rails.

Delia’s attention was firmly on the car and the road ahead, but Patsy’s had drifted elsewhere.  
She couldn’t say why, but the sight of Delia behind the wheel of the powerful little motor was exceedingly alluring.  
She watched as Delia’s small feet deftly feathered the control pedals, watched her left hand constantly shifting from steering wheel to gear-stick and back again. Occasionally, the smaller woman would shift her weight slightly in the seat, leaning into a tight bend with the car - almost as if they were one. She became transfixed by Delia’s thighs flexing, as she worked the accelerator… brakes… clutch…

She could hear a thrumming in her hears - was it the noise of the car, or her heart pounding... heart rate accelerating...  
….and then she realised that her right hand was resting on Delia’s left thigh… how long had it been there? ….feeling the compact muscles becoming gently taught, constantly contracting and releasing… hypnotic…

Delia raised her voice then above the noise of the rumbling engine and rushing wind “Are we having fun?!” then laughing delightedly added, “I know I am!”

Startled from her reverie, Patsy blushed “Oh, yes - most definitely!”

Around noon, they could see the outskirts of Brighton ahead.  
Delia turned to Patsy, her cheeks flushed with the exhilaration of the drive “So, I’ve brought us to Brighton, as requested - what’s next?”

“Well, this part of the day is entirely yours - what would you like to do?” Patsy enquired.

“Oh - we both love the seaside don’t we?” Delia responded, “Could we spend the afternoon on the Brighton seafront?”

Patsy laughed gently - she only loved the seaside because Delia did, “Of course we can gorgeous - the Birthday Girl’s wish is my command!”

They drove along Madiera Drive and parked the Elan by the old victorian colonnades. They decided it might be prudent to put the top back on since they would be leaving the car for a while. Patsy retrieved her purse from her bag and they locked the car up, then headed off towards the seafront entertainments.

They spent the afternoon on the Palace Pier.  
Delia decided on a lunch of ice-cream and candy floss. Patsy rolled her eyes and then quickly caved-in when Delia reminded her of ‘The Birthday Girl’s wishes’, using her dimples with devastating effect. Then they wandered the arcades. 

Patsy turned out to be a dab-hand on the Coconut Shy, winning a teddy bear which she promptly passed to Delia.  
Delia aced the Shooting Gallery. With a sly glance at Patsy, she chose a ‘Kiss Me Quick’ hat, then quickly dragged her love round behind the stall, out of sight. She placed the hat on Patsy’s head, and standing on tip-toes, placed a not-so-quick kiss on Patsy’s surprised lips.

Eventually, as the afternoon drifted into evening, rumbling stomachs dictated that a more hearty meal was required. As dusk fell, the two women walked back up onto Madeira Drive, found a fish and chip shop and ordered two fish-suppers, then took their hot, newspaper-wrapped meals and settled on a seafront bench. They sat with shoulders and thighs touching, and ate in silence for a few minutes, simply enjoying the salty, vinegary food.  
The tang of it combined with the smell of the warm newspaper… Patsy always found it a strangely comforting aroma.

After a while, Delia broke the easy silence.  
“It’s getting dark. You know I love the car - but I don’t fancy sleeping in it…” Delia gazed at Patsy, eyebrows questioning.

“Ah yes - that does bring us neatly to the next phase of Delia’s Birthday Weekender” grinned Patsy “Come on - let’s get back to the car”

Delia narrowed her eyes “What’s going on Pats. This is all terribly cloak and dagger…”

“Patience is a virtue Busby - did no-one ever tell you that? Patsy winked adding, “all good things, and all that…”

The little Elan was waiting where they’d left it, now gleaming under the glow of the streetlights.  
They climbed in shutting the doors and were glad they’d put the top back on - there was a chill in the air now. 

Delia paused before putting the keys in the ignition and turned to Patsy. She took in the taller woman’s striking features and realised there was something different about her. She seemed so much calmer, with an air of peace about her. It had softened her face, and Delia was struck again by her beauty, as if seeing her for the first time. She leaned over and gently stroked Patsy’s cheek with the back of her forefinger. “Patsy, I want to thank you for today. It’s been truly incredible” she shifted over to the left, as far as the snug drivers seat would allow. Patsy smiled softly, caught in Delia’s glittering gaze. 

Under the privacy of the Elan’s soft-top, Delia leaned in further and placed a lingering kiss on the red head’s lips. Then pulling back only fractionally, she whispered “It still feels like a dream - if it is, I don’t ever want to wake up..” 

Patsy closed the gap quickly then, capturing Delia’s lips in a much more intense kiss. She felt her heart rate ratchet up a gear and her stomach flip. Placing her hand gently on the back of Delia’s head, she deepened the kiss, softly probing with her tongue. Delia parted her lips and their tongues met, entwined and exploring. Craving more contact, Patsy twisted her body to the right - and promptly cracked her left knee on the dash with a dull thump - at the same moment her right hip also hit the gearstick, knocking the car out of neutral with a clunk. Both women’s eyes sprang open, lips still locked.  
Patsy’s eyes narrowed in pain - and Delia’s in mirth - and the smaller woman began to giggle into the kiss.

Patsy slowly disengaged and the pair untangled themselves - Patsy gingerly straightening herself back in her seat.  
“I think this car might just be the death of me” she whispered with a grimace, rubbing her bruised knee.

“Oh dear Pats” Delia managed in between giggles, “do you need a nurse to look at that for you..?”  
At Patsy’s sheepish expression, Delia took pity and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.  
“Seriously Patsy, thank you - for this fabulous car - and this day - and you - more than anything you. I don’t want it to end.”

Patsy smiled softly and reached over, lightly caressing Delia’s face “It’s not over yet,” she said then “I have something else to show you.”

——————  
TBC  
——————


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so this went in a much steamier direction than I had initially planned - heh ;)  
>  Just to warn you...

——————

Patsy continued, “It’s not far - only a ten minute drive or so - just follow my directions”  
Delia paused before starting the motor, she gazed at Patsy again for a moment. She couldn’t recall ever seeing the tall red-head look more happy and relaxed than she did right now - her face glowed with a quiet excitement. Delia wondered how on earth this day could possibly get any better… 

There was only one way to find out…  
She turned the ignition key and the engine growled, it was fully dark now and she scanned the dash for the headlight controls. Finding a small silver switch to the left of the steering wheel, she flicked it to the ‘On’ position. There was an electric hum and the flip-up headlights rose up out of the bonnet, ready to light the way. 

Delia laughed delightedly “Oh, this car is just full of surprises!”

“It certainly is - not unlike its driver” Patsy remarked with a chuckle.

Delia shot Patsy a grin and pulled the car swiftly away from the kerb. They drove west along the promenade for a mile or so, before Patsy directed Delia to take a right. They turned onto a wide street flanked on both sides, and running it’s whole length, by terraced, cream-coloured, regency town houses.

They’d travelled about a third of the way along the street when Patsy indicated for Delia to pull into a space under a street lamp on the left hand side of the street, in front of one of the cream-coloured houses.

Delia leaned over and gazed out of the passenger-side window at the beautiful, three-story, bow-fronted facade of the building before her.  
“Pats. What’s this…? she breathed, almost in a repeat of her earlier confused surprise on finding the car keys.

Patsy couldn’t contain her joy any longer, “It’s ours!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“What? Patsy - what on earth…?” Delia whispered, straightening in her seat and staring at her girlfriend in disbelief.

Patsy tugged Delia’s arm gently “Come on, let’s have a look round”

They grabbed their bags and locked the car.  
As they walked up the black and white tiled path and up the three steps to the front door, Patsy rummaged in her bag and pulled out a set of keys and two torches. “There’s just one thing” she turned to back to Delia and apologetically passed her a torch “The place has been shut up for so long, there’s no electricity - I haven’t had time to sort that out yet.” 

Still dumbstruck, Delia shone her torch on the door as Patsy fumbled the key in lock. Eventually finding her voice, she asked, “Pats? Is the door yellow?” - it was hard to tell in the dark.

Patsy looked back over her shoulder.  
Delia looked tiny and slightly shell-shocked, standing on the step below and clutching the torch to her chest. Patsy turned and drew the smaller woman into an enveloping hug “Yes. The door is yellow - isn’t it perfect?” she whispered softly into Delia’s hair. She felt Delia’s head nod gently under her chin and continued “Come - let’s get inside, and I’ll explain everything.”  
_______________

The lock turned with a clunk and they entered, Patsy shutting the door softly behind them. By the light of their torches, they could see they were standing in an entrance porch that led onto a hallway.

Turning to the smaller woman, Patsy began to explain “Deels, this house is part of my inheritance. I had no idea it was here… apparently, there’s another property in Kensington too - but that’s for another day…” 

“Good grief Pats…” was all Delia could manage.

Patsy smiled lop-sidedly and continued “I’ve never been here before, so we’re seeing it together for the first time” she nodded towards the hallway in front of them, “Shall we explore?”

With their torch-beams lighting the way, they walked through the ground floor of the dark house. There was a still, mustiness in the air - although, not as bad as might be expected, considering how long it had been closed up. 

As their torch beams flickered around the walls and ceilings Delia whispered, “I feel like a cat-burglar - I hope the neighbours don’t call the police…”

Patsy pulled a face and flicked her torch up under her chin, distorting her features into a ghostlike mask, “Boo!!”

Delia rolled her eyes, “Idiot…”

Directly off the hall, the first room they came to was a large, high-ceilinged dining room with a huge fireplace, and what was obviously a large dining table, covered with a protective dust sheet. Two large, curved windows looked out to the street. There was an adjoining door, which gave access to a snug reception room with another fireplace, and various sheet-covered pieces of furniture. Exiting this room and back into the hall, they found a small w/c and then a large kitchen. Beyond that was a neat little conservatory in victorian wrought iron and glass, which looked out onto a rear garden. 

As they passed back though the kitchen, Delia’s torch fell on what looked like a chill-box sitting on one of the work tops - the kind you might use in a caravan - along with a wicker basket covered with a napkin, and two tall glasses.

“Pats, has someone else been in here? Look…” she nodded to the items in her torch beam.

Patsy moved over to the box and opened the lid. Inside, surrounded by some ice-blocks was a dish with a selection of wrapped cold meats. There were also some cheeses, a jar of chutney and two large bottles containing fruit juices. She lifted the napkin from the basket to reveal some freshly baked morning rolls, croissants and some assorted jams in small jars.

“Ah, yes - Miss Cameron…” she turned back to Delia and explained, “the house comes with a local lady on a retainer. She has excellent references and she looks after this, and other properties for various other people around the town. I telephoned her last week and asked her to pop in earlier today, air the place a little, and also to leave us some breakfast provisions.”

“Patience Mount, you are such a dark horse…” Delia whispered in disbelief. 

Patsy looked bashful, “Well, you know - I don’t like leaving things to chance. I also asked her to leave us some candles, kindling and firewood for the upstairs reception room and master bedroom - and also to make up the bed…”

Delia raised an eyebrow, “Always practical Patience…”

A thought occurred to Patsy then and she leaned over the large sink and turned on one of the taps. Thankfully, cold water rushed out and into the sink. Patsy nodded, “Good. Miss Cameron must have turned on the water stop-cock - so at least we’ll have some running water for the morning,” then added “although - unless we light all the fires, it will probably be cold…”

Leaving the kitchen then, they climbed the stairs to the first floor.  
Off the landing to the rear was a small study with a window overlooking the garden. Crossing the landing to the front, they entered a large reception room, its double-windows opening onto a balcony. In it were more items of covered furniture and, in front of the ornate fireplace, a sheepskin rug and an enormous leather sofa had been uncovered, along with two small round tables, either end of the sofa.

Turning back onto the landing, they took the stairs to the second floor.  
Here they found a large bathroom at the rear and a guest bedroom. Across the landing at the front was the master bedroom. It had double windows and a large fireplace, but the undeniable focal-point was the huge four-poster bed that had been made up with fresh, white linen.

“Wow…” Delia breathed.

“Uh-huh” Patsy concurred.

They stood for a few moments in silence.

Patsy cleared her throat then, “I think we should get the fires going - take the chill off. And maybe light some candles?”

“Good idea” Delia nodded

Patsy set her bag down by the dressing table, “OK. I’ll take care of downstairs - how about you get the fire going in here and then come and join me?

“Right-oh!” Delia replied brightly. She also stowed her bag out of the way and then got to work setting the fire.

As she left the bedroom, Patsy quickly lifted a bottle and two small glasses from her bag and headed downstairs.  
_______________

Once Delia was satisfied with the bedroom fireplace, she positioned the fireguard in front - just incase of sparks. Then she lit several candles and placed them on the mantlepiece, before padding down the stairs to the next floor to find Patsy.

As she crossed the landing, an invitingly warm glow drew her into the large room. Patsy was sitting with her back resting against one of the arms of the large sofa, her profile in silhouette against the flames of the fireplace. She had placed several candles on the little, round side tables and lively shadows danced across the walls and ceiling.

Delia made her way round the sofa and lowered herself onto it with a sigh. Lifting her legs up and under her, she noticed a bottle of something - it would be whisky, if she knew Pats - and two small, snifter glasses containing generous measures of the golden liquid sitting on the table nearest Patsy.

The older woman lifted the glasses and passed one to Delia.

“What’s this Pats? Now that you’ve got me here, are you going to feed me strong liquor and then have your way with me?” Delia teased, accepting the glass.

Patsy gazed over the rim of her raised glass, her lip curling at the corner ever so slightly, “maybe…” Low and quietly.

Delia blinked, feeling her heart suddenly pick up a pace and her stomach loop-the-loop. What this woman could do to her with just a look…

Smiling softly, Patsy continued, nodding to the bottle on the table, “this was with my father’s last possessions that were sent back from Hong Kong” She paused then, and considered the glass in her hand carefully, ‘Its a thirty year old Talisker from the Isle of Skye - quite rare, apparently...” she continued, “It seems fitting that we have a dram of this in his honour, don’t you think?”  
Patsy patted the sofa in front of her.

“I’ll raise a glass to that” Delia nodded in return.

She wasted no time in scooting over and slotting herself in the space between the taller woman’s bent knees, leaning back and resting gently against Patsy’s chest.  
Patsy reached round and touched her glass to Delia’s with a gentle clink, “Here’s to the future”

“Slange Var” replied Delia quietly.

Patsy chuckled “Oh dear - slipping into your native tongue at the slightest sniff of alcohol, Busby?”

“No - its what the Scots say when they drink whisky, actually” Delia replied continuing, furrowing her brows slightly, “I really don’t know how I know that…”

“Deels, there are days when I suspect you’ve eaten an encyclopaedia for breakfast…”

They sipped their whisky in silence for while, enjoying the luxury of such close proximity and privacy.  
The smoky golden liquid slipped down remarkably easily and it hit their stomachs in a satisfyingly comforting heat-bomb. They watched the flames in the fireplace dance, and their bodies relaxed into one another in the warming glow.

Patsy eventually broke the silence.  
“Deels, I want to talk with you about this place and my inheritance, and what it could mean for us”

Delia nodded and waited for Patsy to continue.

Patsy took a breath and carried on “It’s not just the two houses, there’s a significant amount of money as well. If we invest it properly, it would mean that we could have a very comfortable retirement, perhaps even retire early - if that’s what we wanted to do…”

Delia twisted slightly and stared dumbfounded at the older woman, “Who are you and what have you done with Patsy??” she demanded, continuing with a cheeky grin, “are you saying - in typically blunt Patience Mount style - that you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

Patsy blushed a deep crimson but laughed heartily - a rich, throaty sound.  
“Delia, I knew from the moment I saw you that I wanted to grow old with you” she looked away from Delia’s intense gaze for a beat “…it’s just taken me a while to find the words to tell you.”

Delia cocked a cheeky eyebrow, “in that case, I'll enlighten you - I think you’ll find the words are ‘will you marry me’…” welsh accent coming on strong.

Patsy’s blushed a deeper shade again - was that even possible…?  
“If I could, I would marry you in a heart beat” she murmured quietly.

Delia smiled gently at that, and ceasing her merciless teasing, placed her hand gently on Patsy’s arm indicating for her to continue. 

Patsy carried on, “I’m not sure what to do yet with this house - or the one in Kensington… I don’t know about you, but I don’t really want to move away from Poplar - you’re about to completed your midwife training - it’s where our lives are just now.

Delia nodded in agreement “Well, if we’re looking ahead as far as retirement, perhaps we could keep this one for just that? I’d love to retire here” she suggested.

Patsy nodded her agreement, “I was kind of thinking the same thing.” then added tentatively, “We could in the meantime, if you were agreeable, look into getting a flat again - somewhere close to Nonnatus - one that would be ours, whilst we’re working?”

“Pats - I’d love to go flat hunting with you again - that would be wonderful!” Delia replied with a wide grin and deep dimples. She’d been unable to tear her eyes away from Patsy during the whole exchange - it seemed like her dreams were starting to become real…

At Delia’s rapt gaze, Patsy smiled and nodded “Yes, I’d love for us to stay close to everyone at Nonnatus. Nursing in Poplar is the only thing I’m really any good at…”

Delia’s gaze turned suddenly more intense, “I disagree,” she stated quietly.  
She quickly downed what was left in her glass, leaned over Patsy and placed it on the table with a clunk, then she whispered into Patsy’s ear, “There’s something else you are exceedingly good at…”

Patsy felt her heart begin to hammer as Delia’s lips brushed her ear.  
“Is that so?” she managed to whisper back “and what would that be?”

“Well”, Delia leaned forwards again, so close that their faces were out of focus, “there’s this…” she closed the tiny gap and placed her lips on Patsy’s.

Delia tasted of the smokey whisky - odly salty - and Patsy’s body responded on its own. She deepened the kiss, capturing Delia’s soft upper and lower lips in turn, and then using her tongue, gently eased them apart. Then Delia’s hand was on the back of her head increasing pressure, tongues competing for dominance.

Only the need to breathe brought them back to the surface.  
Delia broke the kiss and inhaled deeply, “Mmmm, yes - you’re very good at that…” she whispered.  
She reached round behind Patsy’s head, found the clasp holding her hair in place and unclipped it, dropping it onto the table behind her. Running her fingers through the copper locks, she smoothed them out and let them drop to Patsy’s shoulders.

Patsy couldn’t stop herself then, she drained her glass in one, and dropped it to the floor - vaguely aware of it rolling off somewhere, into the darkness… and then her hands were making quick work of undoing the buttons of Delia’s blouse. As soon as the last one was undone she tugged the garment back, over Delia’s shoulders and pulled it clean off, dropping it too, onto the floor.  
She reached up and untied the ribbon holding Delia’s pony-tail, discarded it haphazardly and combed her fingers through the long, luxuriant tresses.

Delia moved to straddle Patsy then, her arms resting on the taller woman’s shoulders. The sight of Delia’s bare torso and brassiere-clad breasts hovering in front of her face made Patsy’s heart rate shift up another gear, blood pounding in her ears and an insistent throb building in her groin. Her left hand swiftly moved to the button of Delia’s trousers and undid it, along with the zip. At the same time, she reached her right hand round Delia’s back and undid her bra, releasing the clip quickly with her thumb and forefinger in one move. She slipped the straps off Delia’s shoulders and tossed the garment away, setting the smaller woman’s wonderfully pert breasts free.

Delia’s sharp intake of breath made Patsy pause for a beat and glance up. The smaller woman raised an eyebrow “see - another talent - I didn’t know you were ambidextrous!”, then she gasped as Patsy’s lips found one of her nipples.

Patsy feathered the nipple with her tongue until it hardened. 

Delia gasped again, “Patsy - uh! …oh - wait…” 

Patsy moved to the other soft breast with the same intent. She clamped her lips around the nipple and sucked firmly.

Shooting stars fired around the periphery of Delia’s vision.  
“Oh! God Pats…wait a minute!” she pleaded hoarsely.

Patsy paused then, releasing the nipple momentarily.  
Delia was panting rapidly, she took a steadying breath and lifted Patsy’s chin so that their eyes met.  
Each gazed into pools of deep, dark blue - hot desire reflected back.

“Since you seem intent on making my dreams come true today, I have one more Birthday Girl Wish” Delia whispered.

Patsy raised a questioning eyebrow, her lips still hovering over Delia’s nipple, “anything - name it...” 

Delia continued hesitantly, “Promise not to laugh…?”

“I promise…” came the husky response.

“It’s just… I have this fantasy…” Delia murmured, “…about making love on a sheepskin rug, in front of a roaring fire…” she faltered then, feeling the heat of a blush rush from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

Patsy gazed up at her steadily “Even though we have that huge bed upstairs?” 

Delia nodded, “I haven’t forgotten about that - I’m saving it for later…”

Patsy smiled slowly and glanced at the thick, fleecy rug on the floor, “Well then, the Birthday Girl’s wish is my command!”

Slowly untangling themselves, Patsy rose and offered Delia her hand, pulling her gently up off the sofa. Then she stepped in close and made to manoeuvre them onto the rug, but Delia placed a restraining hand on her chest.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Delia tugged on the front of Patsy’s soft woollen jumper, “I need your skin against mine…” she murmured softly. 

She grasped the hem of the jumper as Patsy raised her arms to assist, and pulled it up and over the taller woman’s head. She tossed it away to join her own scattered clothing, ran her hands over the smooth skin of Patsy’s stomach and then captured her full bottom lip in a kiss, tugging it gently with her teeth.

With her lips still caught in the kiss, Patsy quickly reached behind her own back and unclasped her bra. She pulled it off and hastily threw it away, not caring where it landed. She managed to break the kiss long enough to kick off her shoes and wriggle out of her jeans and knickers, stepping out of them and hurriedly kicking them away.

Delia leaned back then and took in the sight before her.  
Patsy’s smooth, pale skin was lit with a golden hue from the fire. Despite the warmth in the room, goosebumps were clearly visible all over her skin, thrown into relief by the glowing firelight. Delia let her eyes roam freely over Patsy’s body, lingering over all the soft curves. They appeared enhanced by the shadows. She reached out her hands and cupped Patsy’s breasts, lightly rubbing over the nipples with her thumbs, feeling them rise in response. 

Patsy could no longer restrain herself - she wanted Delia. On that rug. Now.  
She stepped in close, feeling Delia’s soft breasts resting just beneath her own and then inclined her head and took the smaller woman’s lips in a heated kiss. Then she ran her hands down Delia’s back and into the loosened waistband of her trousers, worked them under her knickers and cupped the gloriously full buttocks. She felt Delia’s lips curl into a smile against hers, and her small hands skimmed up over Patsy’s ribs and came to rest on her shoulders. Patsy pushed her body gently against Delia’s smaller form, guiding them - as though in a slow dance - towards the rug in front of the fire. She was aware of Delia just managing to kick off her shoes before they stepped onto it.

The thick, soft fleece felt luxurious - their feet sinking into the deep pelt. The warmth from the fire gently caressed their skin.

Patsy began trailing kisses down Delia’s neck; along her shoulder; onto her chest. She heard Delia sigh as she kissed each of her breasts in turn. She worked her way lower, Delia’s skin shivering under her lips. Then, hooking her fingers firmly into what remained of Delia’s clothing, she slowly dropped to her knees, pulling trousers and knickers down with her. Delia placed her hands on Patsy’s shoulders and delicately stepped out of them, before kicking them out of the way.

Looking up from her kneeling position, Patsy decided that Delia - skin bronzed in the glowing firelight - could easily be a goddess in disguise. She often wondered if the small Welsh woman might be heaven-sent.  
Lightly caressing Delia’s thighs and hips, she leaned forwards and gently kissed the mound of soft, dark curls now in front of her. Pulling back, she noted silky folds, rosy-pink and swollen with desire, starting to peak through the curls, and her blood began to rush straight to her own core.

“God, Deels” she breathed, slightly awe-struck by the woman before her, “I don’t think we should make you wait any longer…” 

“Good, because I really can’t…” came the low, husky, heavily accented response.

Patsy grasped Delia’s hands and and pulled her down to a kneeling position in front of her. She grabbed the smaller woman’s hips and lifted her up and forwards onto her thigh - Delia’s groin was slick and hot against her. 

The smaller woman hung on tight - their upper bodies flush - and with her arms wrapped around Patsy’s neck, immediately began to rock her hips in a slow rhythm.

Patsy snaked her arms around Delia’s upper back, supporting her, but also applying a gentle downwards pressure to her movements. She felt Delia’s rapid breaths hot on her neck and whispered, “Darling, I’ve got you - let yourself go…”

Not that Delia ever needed to be told.  
Making love with Delia was always a revelatory experience. Patsy was forever astonished by her love’s ability to give herself over completely to her physical needs and desires. It was beautiful to bear witness to.

Delia picked up the pace then, her hips grinding out a faster rhythm. Breaths hitching and punctuated with low, throaty moans.  
Without warning, she raised herself up on her knees a fraction and Patsy’s right hand was grasped, and then guided downwards into soft, warm silken folds, slick with pent-up longing.

Patsy easily found Delia’s clitoris - engorged and hardened with arousal - and ran her fingers around it, teasing.  
Delia’s body responded instantly with a jolt and a loud gasp, “Uuh!! ...Pats... please!”  
With her index finger, she gently massaged the hard little nub, gradually increasing speed and pressure. Delia’s body began to shudder and Patsy became acutely aware of the smaller woman’s other thigh trembling against her own groin - and a building heat blooming there…

But she forced her attention back to her lover - she was on the brink now - and slid her index and middle fingers backwards, through the silky folds, sliding them gently and deeply, right inside Delia.

Delia groaned, grabbed a fistful of coppery hair and lowered herself onto Patsy’s hand.  
Delia’s pelvis rocked faster against Patsy’s palm, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps, the tension in her body building.  
Patsy felt it coming, and with her hand now firmly wedged between her own thigh and Delia’s groin, the only thing left to do was to curl her fingers forwards slightly, against the hot muscle wall and press on that secret spot.

Delia hit the crescendo.  
Patsy felt the woman in her arms stiffen and her breathing hold for a beat, she felt a tug on her hair and then teeth bite down on her shoulder. Then Delia’s back arched and her whole body shuddered, her muscles contracting over and over around Patsy’s fingers until the wave of ecstasy subsided.  
The sudden arching movements had tipped Delia’s weight backwards slightly, their bodies parting, and Patsy realised that she could no longer keep them both upright. With her left arm still supporting Delia’s upper back, she lowered her gently, backwards and down onto the rug, Delia unfolding her legs from underneath her as her back contacted with the soft fleece. Only then did Patsy slowly - very slowly - remove her fingers from inside Delia. Gently - ever so gently. 

She lay down on the soft fleece next to Delia and watched as her chest gradually began to rise and fall to a more measured pace.  
Delia sighed and opened her eyes, they were still black as night, with miniature flames dancing there, reflecting the fire.  
“God Pats - that was….” she faltered, “I don’t have the words…” then after a beat, “Thank you.”

Patsy smiled, “I really didn’t do that much. You did all the work yourself” then chuckling added “I just came along for the ride…”  
Delia snorted and slapped Patsy gently on the arm, “Oh, you did plenty, trust me” adding, “and all I can say is - it was a hell of a ride!”

They lay in silence for a while and watched the fire as the flames began to dwindle and fade to glowing embers.  
“Pats…?” Delia broke the silence, “When we get our own flat back in London, can we get a sheepskin rug?”

Patsy laughed, “of course we can” then added, “We’ll come and get this one”

Delia chuckled, “Um… I thought it might be good to keep this one here too - just in case…”

Patsy propped herself up on one elbow and cocked an eyebrow, “Just incase what…?”

Delia continued, smirking “…just incase we ever feel like a dirty weekend in Brighton”

Patsy looked aghast “Busby, you really are incorrigible!!” and added, “anyway - it’s Hove, actually…”

Delia giggled, also raising herself up on an elbow, then leaned over and touched her lips to Patsy’s.  
“Thank you for everything Patsy - I can’t wait to start the rest of our lives together.”

Patsy responded by returning the kiss, slow and languorous, capturing Delia’s bottom lip and then using her tongue to part her lips further, before exploring gently inside.  
She felt Delia shift closer and run a hand down over her stomach… then further south still… and then gently cup her fair curls - which were very, very damp.

Delia’s eyes shot open and she pulled out of the kiss.  
“Good grief Pats” she exclaimed, “You are soaking wet!!”

Patsy's lips curled into a slow smile “I know…” then added matter of factly, “It’s what you do to me.”

“Well, we’re not leaving you like this” Delia stated, getting up off the rug. She offered Patsy her hand “Come on - we’re going upstairs, where I’m going to thank you properly.”

——————  
TBC  
——————


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This picks up immediately on from the last chapter.  
> Please be aware that there is another quite detailed, intimate scene right at the beginning... and then it deteriorates further into fluff - lots of fluff :-D

_______________

Pulling Patsy up off the rug, Delia led her by the hand out into the hall, both stepping over various discarded articles of clothing as they went.   
They climbed the stairs to the third floor quickly, following the warm fire-glow emanating from the master bedroom.

Delia paused on the landing and pulled Patsy round to face her, then reaching up, she put her arms around the taller woman’s neck and kissed her deeply. Patsy grasped Delia’s hips, pulling her closer, her lips yielding and allowing Delia’s tongue free access. Gently teasing with her tongue, Delia drew Patsy closer still.

Making love to Patsy was often a very delicate affair.  
On the rare occasions that they managed it at Nonnatus (usually quickly and silently, and still clad in their pyjamas), Patsy would always appear slightly distracted - forever on alert. 

This was entirely understandable, as the threat of being discovered was very real.  
Never able to fully relax, Patsy would sometimes be unable to reach climax.  
Occasionally she would even halt proceedings entirely, if she thought she’d heard the slightest noise elsewhere in the house. 

Delia longed to give Patsy what she herself had just experienced. Longed to worship her body fully and completely, and without restraint. To show her that she was loved beyond all else. 

After their antics in front of the fire downstairs - the way Patsy had focused solely on Delia’s needs and the way the older woman’s desire had burned so intensely - Delia had a feeling that Patsy yearned for that too, and that tonight, things might be quite different…

Delia broke the kiss, and still holding her close, whispered against Patsy’s ear, “Cariad, I want to see all of you tonight… will you trust me?”

Patsy felt her entire body hum with a kind of electrical charge “Yes,” she replied huskily, “always, and with everything I have…” She kissed Delia hungrily, and whispered against her lips, “I need you to see me… I really need you now…”

Patsy felt Delia’s weight against her then, and she was marched swiftly backwards and into the bedroom.   
Suddenly, she felt something cool and hard on her back, and realised that she was pinned against one of the tall bed posts. 

Breathing hard. Blood pounding. Delia’s mouth on hers. Small hands roaming…  
She was pushed backwards and onto the bed, her back only just contacting with the sheets before Delia’s mouth and hands were on her again.

Fiery kisses along her jaw. Hot breath against her ear and neck. Goosebumps tingling.  
Lips carried on down her neck, tongue pausing to explore the vee at the base of her throat, then continuing to her breasts…

And then Delia’s mouth found her nipples, teasing them to attention with her tongue. Warm lips enfolding each in one in turn, and sucking…

Patsy’s whole body jolted involuntarily. Heart hammering so hard she felt she might faint.  
A hot tightening in her groin.

“Oh! God Deels…” gasped through clenched teeth. Chest heaving.

Releasing Patsy’s nipples, Delia glanced up and smiled softly.   
Satisfied that her lover’s self-restraint was weakening, she began to slowly navigate lower.

Patsy’s skin, charged and prickling, almost rose, unbidden to meet Delia’s mouth as it travelled onwards. Achingly slowly… ever downwards... over her torso… across her stomach. 

The throbbing deep within Patsy’s pelvis was beginning to take over, and her legs parted slightly. Delia’s tongue and lips traced lower still, travelling down, beyond her belly button and over her lower abdomen. 

And then a light kiss landed on her golden curls.   
Her hips rocked.  
Once.  
Twice.  
Her legs parted further. 

Only then did Patsy belatedly realise Delia’s intentions.  
She gasped, regaining some of her senses.

“Oh… Delia - you don’t have to…”

Delia paused and looked up, eyes dark with want.   
“Sweetheart,” she whispered, “you’re so beautiful - I want to… do you want me to..?”

Patsy paused for a beat, holding Delia's gaze, then nodded quickly, lower lip clamped between her teeth.

Delia smiled softly and nodded.  
Then she dipped her head - and touched the tip of her tongue to her lover’s most intimate spot.

A searing-hot bolt of pleasure shot through Patsy’s body.

“Oh!!”

This was far beyond anything they’d ever done before.  
Patsy felt her heart contract and a sudden surge of heat rush into her groin. 

Delia gently ran her tongue around and over the hardened bundle of nerves. She noted the taste of Patsy - salty and a little sweet - before enveloping the stiff little bud with her lips and sucking, very, very gently.

Patsy’s eyes rolled back in her head.  
“Oh! …Oh, lord! …Uuhh!!!” 

She lost all her senses then - there was only the throbbing heat in her groin and her blood pounding in her head.  
Her left hand flew up and back, grasping for something - anything - solid to ground her.   
She found the heavy, wooden headboard behind her and clung to it. Her right hand buried itself deep in Delia’s thick, dark locks.

Her hips began to rock.  
She couldn’t stop now…didn’t want to stop…  
Her breaths came faster and shallower, keeping time with her hips. Then, as the tight, tingling in her core intensified, she finally surrendered to her body’s insistent plea: Let go… Let go!

“Delia!” she gasped, through laboured breaths, “Delia - I need you inside. Now!”

Delia raised her head and quickly shifted her position back up the bed and onto her side, flush against Patsy’s supine form. She put one hand behind Patsy’s shoulders, her arm cradling them, and then quickly slipped the fingers of her other hand gently into Patsy’s glistening folds. Sliding two fingers back through her lover’s arousal, she gently eased them deep inside.

Patsy was slightly narrower, but she was so slick with desire, that her flesh offered little resistance.  She groaned deep in her throat as Delia’s thumb set to work on her clitoris. Patsy’s left hand still gripped the headboard, her free hand had now found Delia’s back and held on tight.

Her hips picked up their rhythm.  
The hot, upsurge of pleasure built until it was almost unbearable and Patsy screwed her eyes shut - brows furrowed. Delia could feel the tension in her lover’s body about to break. Keeping her fingers inside, she quickly flattened her palm onto Patsy – applying pressure but returning control back to her lover.

Patsy thrust her pelvis rapidly and firmly against Delia’s hand - and then the dam broke.   
She shuddered as the torrent drove through every nerve in her body - a pleasure-bomb simultaneously exploding in her brain.

Muscles contracting. Back arching. Gasping for air.  
   
She collapsed back onto the bed, the wave subsiding slowly and her jumbled senses gradually reordering themselves.

Delia’s voice began to filter through:  
“Cariad…sweetheart…” whispered against her neck, soft and soothing, “I have you…I love you…”

Patsy’s body began to still, her breaths less laboured. She opened her eyes and was met by deep blue reflecting her gaze, full of love and contentment. She felt Delia’s fingers slide free of her body and she sighed, almost regretfully, at the parting. 

She smiled languidly then, and kissed Delia slowly and deeply.   
The taste of herself still clung to Delia’s lips and Patsy felt a rush of elation and love wash through her.

She broke the kiss slowly, “Oh, Delia…” she sighed, “…my beautiful Deels…” she continued, smiling softly, “I want us like this forever…I’m sorry I’ve made you wait so long, but I won’t any longer - I promise you that.”

Delia reached up and gently held Patsy’s face.  
“Sweetheart, that was heavenly - everything about this, and you, and us - is heavenly” then with a wink added “and very much worth the wait!”

As the fireplace embers faded and the candles burned down, they fell asleep to whispered ‘I love you’s’ and hopeful promises of the future.

_______________

 

Patsy woke early.  
She had no idea what time it was, but the dawn light was leaking into their bedroom through a crack in the wooden shutters. She could hear birdsong drifting in from outside, and the distant cry of a seagull.

She stretched and turned onto her side - and was presented with the most captivating sight:   
Delia. Lying prone. One arm thrown above her head on the pillow. Her long hair scattered around her head and shoulders. The candlewick bed cover was lying in a heap at the foot of the bed, and the top sheet was rumpled down, well below her waist.  
She was snoring softly.

Patsy simply lay there and gazed at the tableau before her for a while. She couldn’t bear to wake Delia just yet - couldn't bear to break the spell.  
It took all of her will-power not to reach out and touch her. Not to trace her fingers along the length of Delia’s bare back. Not to follow the curve of her spine all the way down to where it arched upwards again, into the swell of her full buttocks - just tantalisingly visible - as they disappeared under the edge of the thin sheet.  

The sweet scent of Delia filled her nostrils, along with something else - something piquant - which made her blush, triggering memories of their nocturnal activities.  
In that moment, she acknowledged the realisation that this was how she wanted to wake up. Every day. With Delia. In their own bed.

The sooner they found a place of their own in Poplar, the better…

She stretched again and winced - she was aching in places she really shouldn’t be…  
Then her stomach gave a loud, hungry grumble, demanding sustenance. She decided to go down to the kitchen and prepare their breakfast. Not wishing to wake the slumbering form beside her, she carefully sat up and slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed.  

Her feet hit the cold floor, and only then did she remember that she hadn’t packed a robe - or pyjamas for that matter - not that she’d needed them, she noted wryly… Delia would no doubt call her a brazen strumpet…

Reluctant to trot down two floors to a cold kitchen utterly naked, she decided to make use of what she had to hand. She gently took a handful of the top sheet and drew it gingerly towards her. She watched, as it slowly rippled over Delia’s prone form, flowing over her curves until she lay fully naked. Still she did not stir… 

Patsy paused for a moment, eyes lingering on her lover’s body. God, she was beautiful…  
She noted a few red marks on Delia’s upper back and chewed her lip…She didn’t remember doing that…  
Then, she very nearly abandoned all thoughts of breakfast in favour of climbing back into bed for some morning entertainment…. 

But no, she resolved, shaking herself out of her musings… breakfast wouldn’t make itself…  
She quickly straightened the candlewick cover and pulled it gently up and over Delia.  
Still she slumbered on - she slept like the dead sometimes. Particularly after strenuous activity… Patsy smirked.

Back to the task at hand.  
She managed to fold and twist the sheet around herself toga-style - it would do. Then she crept quietly out onto the landing and headed downstairs.  
As she passed the second floor sitting room, something caught her eye. Pausing on the threshold, she saw a whisky glass, just under the edge of the leather sofa - it must have rolled across the floor… 

The flash of an image sprang into her mind:  
Delia kissing her on the sofa… Soft, whisky-smoked lips on hers… Patsy loosening her grip on the glass, dropping it to the floor…

She blinked, stepped into the room and bent to collect the glass. Then she noticed the trail of scattered clothing. She followed it, collecting each item as she went: blouse; bras x 2, jumper; trousers and knickers x 2; hers and Delia’s shoes…

As she bent to collect the shoes, her feet sank into the fleecy rug on the floor and another mental image flashed into focus:  
Kneeling on the rug… Fire warming her back…Delia writhing on her lap…

Lips curling at the memory, she tidied their clothes as best she could, folding them over the back of the sofa. Then, on examining the deep creases in the fabric, she instantly regretted insisting that they travel so light. They’d only brought wash bags and fresh underwear…oh dear… they would just have to make do…

Her stomach growled again – reminding her that breakfast was required…  
She hurried down the stairs to the ground floor and entered the kitchen. On opening the window shutters, she noticed that Miss Cameron had also left firewood next to the kitchen fireplace - she really must leave the thoughtful woman a large tip.  
Patsy set to work lighting the fire. It would heat the back-boiler and hopefully give them just enough hot water to freshen-up with after breakfast.

Then, rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, she quickly found a large tray with little fold-down legs - perfect for breakfast in bed.

By the time she reached the third floor, she was silently congratulating herself on managing to carry the heavily-laden breakfast tray up two flights, without any spillages – and all the while wrapped in a bed sheet…

She entered their bedroom to find Delia sitting up in bed, yawning and stretching languidly.  
The smaller woman turned, rubbing her eyes, and on taking in Patsy’s improvised toga-clad figure, chuckled.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, grinning “my very own greek goddess - I could really get used to this, I must say!”

Patsy smiled apologetically, “I didn’t pack any pyjamas…”

“Neither did I...” came the amused the retort, “...and I am not complaining!”

Patsy blushed, glanced to the tray she was carrying and happily stated the obvious: “I made us breakfast in bed!” 

“Perfect!” Delia clapped her hands delightedly, adding “…because I never want to get out of this bed…”

Patsy laid the tray over Delia’s lap and then unwrapped herself from her toga-sheet, before climbing back under the cover beside Delia.

The smaller woman leaned over and placed a light kiss on her lips, winking cheekily. Then they shared breakfast, chatting happily all the while.

Patsy remembered something, then, “Oh - Deels, I’ve been meaning to ask you… ever since your reaction to the car yesterday…”

Delia swallowed a mouthful of jam-smothered croissant and took a sip of orange juice, “Oh yes - and what’s that…?”

Patsy continued, “Well, I just wondered how you know all that technical…car stuff..” then with a blush added, “It’s really quite fetching when you say it…”

Delia’s lips curled into a sly smile. She put her croissant down on her plate and leaned closer to Patsy. Lowering her voice and thickening her accent she began: “By ‘car stuff’ I take it you mean….”  
And then she rattled-off a list of the little Lotus’s attributes, punctuating each item with a light kiss on Patsy’s lips, until she finished, with an arched eyebrow on, “…front-mounted twin cams.”

Patsy pulled back a fraction, heart fluttering again, and retorted as smoothly as she could, under the circumstances, “You know - that sounds suspiciously like a description of yourself…” and then added to the list, in a husky whisper, “…a racy little number - a proper little goer?”

Delia giggled, “Pats - that sounds FILTHY when you say it!!”

“Hmmm - doesn’t it though…?” Patsy replied, then added, more to herself, “…and I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on your front-mounted twin cams…”

Without missing a beat, Delia shot back, “You already have - and you know you can mount my twin cams anytime you like!”

And then they collapsed into guffaws and giggles at the ridiculous, car-themed puns and innuendos.

Catching her breath then, Patsy poked Delia gently in the ribs “Hey - you didn’t answer the question - how do you know it all?”

Delia chuckled “Oh - years of practice!”

At Patsy’s raised eyebrows she continued, “Seriously, it really is just years of practice…It probably all started with Auntie Blod’s Morgan though... She used to take me out in it sometimes on weekend visits.”   
She smiled at the memory, “I loved it - just loved the speed of it. It was Auntie Blod who taught me to drive, much to Mam’s annoyance - she didn’t think it was ‘ladylike’…”

Delia huffed, rolled her eyes, then continued, “As for the ‘technical stuff’, I think I must’ve picked a lot of that up from the St John Ambulance drivers. There’s a lot of hanging around in between call-outs and so I used to get chatting to them,” Delia explained, “…and as normally happens when chatting with a bunch of blokes, the conversation usually turns to cars…and girls… I learned quite a lot from them actually…”

Patsy smirked, “About what - cars or girls?”

“Both!” Delia chuckled with a wink before continuing “And of course, to add to all that, while you were away, Phyllis and I spent a lot of time sitting out on the bench chatting about Sister Winifred’s driving lessons, and how we ourselves learned to drive - and she gave me some of her ‘Practical Motorist’ magazines to read” she giggled and added, “I now know how to cure ‘wheel wobble’ and ‘overhaul hydraulics!’”

Patsy grinned, “There you go again with the sexy car-talk!”

Delia slapped Patsy playfully on the arm, “If I’d known it was such a turn-on for you, I’d have put my extensive ‘car-talk’ vocabulary to better use - much, much sooner!”

Eventually as they finished breakfast, Patsy reluctantly brought them both back to reality.  
“Deels, I hate for this wonderful weekend to end…” she said, sighing regretfully, “but we really should think about hitting the road - we need to get back to Poplar. We’re both on shift tomorrow...”

Delia nodded “I know Pats…”  
Her brows furrowed slightly “We haven’t discussed what we’re going to do with Ellie… we can’t take her back to Nonnatus - they’ll all ask questions that we can’t answer…” then she paused, catching Patsy’s confused expression.

Patsy was staring, brows furrowed, “Sorry - who’s ‘Ellie’..??” 

“The car.” replied Delia, matter-of-factly.

Patsy blinked “You’ve given the car a name…??

Delia rolled her eyes, “Of course. If you name it, it becomes more than just a machine - it becomes a part of you. ‘Ellie’ is perfect for her, don’t you think?”

Patsy pursed her lips slightly and gazed at Delia for a moment, wondering if it was possible for her to be anymore adorable than she was just then.

“Well, I did actually consider quite early on what we might do with the car until we got a place of our own.” Patsy carried on, “The sales chap at the garage said he could store it in his workshops - for a small fee…”

Delia considered that for a moment before replying, “Actually, I think I might have a better idea…” she nodded as the idea formed further, “yes… I think Auntie Blod would look after her for us!”

Patsy frowned sceptically “She’d do that…?”

Delia smiled “Yes! She loves cars - and she’s got a garage at hers - it’s perfect!”

“But again - how do we explain it without giving ourselves away…?” Patsy enquired, still frowning.

Delia put her hand gently on Patsy’s arm, and then lowering her gaze, said softly, “Pats, Auntie Blod knows about us.”   
Then she explained, “I visited her a few times when you were in Hong Kong. She could see I wasn’t myself, and she asked what was wrong…and I just told her… everything. It just all poured out - I couldn’t stop myself.”

Patsy nodded gently, “I see. It’s OK… I assume she’s supportive?”

Delia looked up and smiled warmly “Oh yes, definitely - she really wants to meet you actually…” her face brightened even further, “Oh, this is just perfect - I should ring her and see if we can visit her today, on the way back to Poplar!”

_______________

After breakfast, the pair quickly ran downstairs and collected their clothes from the large sitting room, before hurrying back up to their bedroom to freshen up. There was just enough hot water for them to wash at the sink in the bathroom.

As they dressed, Delia commented, “Thank God we’ve managed to wash, Pats” adding with a blush, “I don’t think I could look Auntie Blod in the eye otherwise.”  
Then she glanced at her creased blouse and tousled hair, “It’s bad enough that I look like I’ve slept in a hedge…”

“You look like you’ve done more than just SLEEP in a hedge…” Patsy teased.

“That’s exactly my point - I look like I’ve slept in a hedge - with YOU!” Delia shot back with a wink, pointing at Patsy’s equally rumpled clothes.

Then they got to work tidying up.  
Patsy suggested that they strip the bed and leave the sheets folded at the foot for Miss Cameron to collect later. Between them, they quickly managed to clean the fireplaces they’d used, and tidy away all their breakfast things.

As they walked back through the house in daylight, they could see much more clearly what a splendid place it really was. Beautiful wooden floors, grand fireplaces, high ceilings and full-height windows. Once on the ground floor again, Patsy led them through the kitchen and into the little conservatory at the rear. It was warm and flooded with sunlight.

Delia’s hand slipped into hers, “I still can’t quite believe all this is real Pats,” she whispered.

Patsy pulled the smaller woman into a hug and gently kissed the top of her head “I know, but it really is. This is ours now - our future…” adding, “I can just see us drinking coffee and reading the Sunday papers in here. Watching the dog running in the garden, and the cat sleeping, just over there, in a sun-spot.”

Delia looked up then, eyes bright “I don’t want to wish our lives away - but I really can’t wait!”

Patsy hugged Delia tightly “Come on, why don’t you call your Aunt while I pack our things in the car. There’s a call-box just at the top of the road…”

“OK” Delia reached up and placed a kiss on Patsy’s cheek, “I won’t be long.”

She disappeared along the hall and Patsy heard the front door open and then click shut.

Patsy took a final look round the conservatory then, and out at the garden, smiled to herself and made a mental toast to new beginnings.

She walked back into the kitchen and pulled her cheque book out of her purse. Making the cheque out the house-keeper, she made sure it would cover all the provisions, plus laundry of the bed linen and hand towels, as well as a generous tip.   
She left it on the work-top next to the chill-box with a note of thanks, then collected their bags from the hall.  
She was just locking the front door when Delia appeared at the foot of the front garden path, cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Well, what did your Aunt say - are we paying her a visit?” Patsy enquired.

“We certainly are!” Delia replied with a grin, “she says she’ll dig out the ‘good tea-bags’ and the pink wafers.”

Patsy chuckled - she was beginning to like the sound of Auntie Blod… “In that case, we’d best get a move on - I love pink wafers!”

The weather looked to be staying fine, so they elected to go ‘topless’ again for the drive back. They loaded everything in ‘Ellie’s’ dinky boot and then hopped in. 

As Delia turned the key in the ignition and the engine fired, they both looked up at the house one more time, before turning and grinning at each other like fools.

Then Delia shifted the little car into first, and they were off!

_______________

TBC…  
_______________


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy meets Auntie Blod.  
> Auntie Blod meets 'Ellie'.
> 
> Yup, we started with fluff...and we're ending with fluff...

_______________

The drive back through the countryside to London was just as exciting and enjoyable as the day before. They had the radio blaring out the latest hits, and found themselves singing along at the tops of their voices to The Beatles ‘She Loves You’ and Dusty’s ‘I Only Want To Be With You’ - amongst many others - and then laughing at their own off-key efforts.

Delia was now thoroughly at one with Ellie, shifting through her gears smoothly and guiding her round the twisting country roads with an assured confidence. Patsy draped her arm over the back of Delia’s seat and watched her drive with a renewed appreciation - and a nagging feeling that she would soon be vying with Ellie for Delia’s attentions!  
However, on taking in her love’s face - all flushed with excitement and happiness - she knew it was more than worth it.

Soon, they were navigating back through the southern outskirts of London again, and then continuing a little further north into East Finchley. As they drew closer to Delia’s Aunt’s house, a sudden though occurred to Patsy.

“Deels - how should I address your Aunt?”

Delia smiled to herself. Patsy’s upbringing was never very far from the surface.  
She thought it was actually one of Patsy’s more endearing characteristics. On occasion, it made her appear quite old-fashioned in an oddly chivalrous sort of way - which Delia secretly adored.

“Well,” she replied, “her full name is Blodwyn Efa Thomas - but if you call her anything other than ‘Blod’, you’ll get a clip round the ear,” then added “and for goodness sake, don’t call her Miss Thomas, or we’ll never get asked back…”

Delia turned the car into a tree-lined street of little, brick-built bungalows. She pulled in to the kerb in front of the house at the very end of the row. There was a large, wooden garage which faced onto the street, adjacent to the gable-end of the house, and a neatly-kept front garden next to it.

Delia placed a reassuring hand lightly on Patsy’s arm “This is Auntie Blod’s - come on, shall we go in?”

Just as they were climbing out of the car however, the front door of the house was flung open.  
A small, round, ruddy-faced woman, somewhere in her 40’s, with dark, silver-streaked hair held up in a bun, came barrelling down the garden path towards them.

“Oh my darlings, there you are!” she clapped her hands and pointed delightedly at the car.  
“I heard you before I saw you - there’s no mistaking the sound of a Lotus, now is there?” her soft Welsh accent separating the syllables, turning ‘Lotus’ into ‘Low-tus’.

Then she made a bee-line straight for Patsy.  
“Well then, you must be Patsy!” she exclaimed, accent thickening still.

Patsy smiled and stepped forward, extending her hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Thom….” then stopped and corrected herself, “…um, so sorry - I mean Blod.”

Auntie Blod shot a wink at Delia, “Goodness - so polite!” and then, bypassing Patsy’s offered hand, she gripped the much taller woman in a tight hug. “I can’t tell you how welcome you are” she said, smiling warmly. 

Then, with both hands still on Patsy’s arms, she leaned back, and gazed at her in an appraising manner and remarked, “Delia’s description of you didn’t quite prepare me for this though,” and with a sparkle in her eye she continued, “…but then again, I should have known - my little darling always did have an eye for the finer things…”

Patsy swallowed and blinked - having no idea how to respond to that - and a deep blush rushed into her face.

Auntie Blod released her grip then, and turned to her now equally scarlet niece.  
Laughing delightedly, she pulled Delia into a bear-hug exclaiming, “My darling Delia - this really is the best day!”

Then she lowered her voice and continued, “Sweetheart - she is utterly lovely! Don’t ever let her go, do you hear?”

Then releasing a somewhat stunned Delia, she turned to both women “Now then, let’s get inside.”  
She led them into the house, “I think a brew is in order - and you must tell me how you come to have that delightful little motorcar…”

Blod led them through the hallway and into a cosy sitting room at the front of the house. Large bay windows looked out onto the street over the front garden, and a sofa, along with two matching wingback armchairs were gathered round a sturdy oak coffee table.

Blod had laid out a heaped plate of biscuits - including the promised pink wafers - along with side plates and napkins.

“Why don’t you two make yourselves comfortable - I’ll just get the teapot - shan’t be long…” and with that, she bustled off down the hall.

The two women settled together on the sofa and Delia glanced at Patsy, taking in her shell-shocked expression.  
“I know - Auntie Blod is a bit of a whirlwind…” she stated with an apologetic smile, adding “…but she really, really likes you!”

Patsy was about to comment when a tiny, blur of white fur shot into the room in a flurry of barking and tail-wagging. It was a little west highland terrier, and it seemed intent on trying to lick both Patsy and Delia to death.

Delia leaned down, “Well, hello little one!” she said laughing, as she ruffled the little dog’s fur, tickling behind its ears - much to it’s excited delight.

“Whisky!” Blod’s voice called from the corridor.  
“Whisky - settle down!” she commanded, as she entered the sitting room again, carrying a tray laden with the teapot, cups and saucers.  
Whisky gave a little huff and then moved to sit by the armchair nearest the window. Blod laid the tray on the table and then settled herself in the same chair. She reached down and scratched the little dog’s head “This one’s a little devil” she commented, nodding to Whisky, “but I wouldn’t be without her” then added “watch your biscuits though, or she’ll be off with them!”

Leaning forward, she lifted the teapot.  
“Now then - who’s for tea?” she enquired. 

Blod served up the tea and biscuits and then settled back in her chair. She blew on the steaming-hot liquid in her cup and gazed for a moment at the two women sitting together on her sofa. 

Patsy had her long legs crossed elegantly in front of her, and occasionally glanced sideways at Delia with a soft, curiously lop-sided smile.  
Delia had kicked off her shoes, and sat with her feet up, legs curled underneath her, knees just touching Patsy’s thigh. One arm was stretched along the back of the sofa, resting lightly on Patsy’s shoulders.

Blod smiled.  
She’d waited so long to see Delia like this, and now finally, here she was, looking utterly content - and clearly very much in love.

Over the years, Blod had watched Delia’s Mam - Blod’s older sister - try to mould and shape Delia into her own rigid idea of what a daughter should be. Watched, as she’d tried to choose hobbies for her young daughter that she deemed to be ‘ladylike’. Then later, watched as she’d tried to match Delia with various local lads back in their village. 

However, her niece had consistently gone her own way.  
Running wild in the countryside as a girl, and then later in her teens, refusing each and every one of those so-called matches. Delia had displayed a strength of will that her Mam simply could not bend or break.

Blod had known then that her niece was different.  
She had felt such relief when Delia had announced that she was coming to London to become a nurse. She knew that her niece would eventually find her true path there - far away from the social confines of village life.  
Blod smiled again and nodded to herself.

The three women chatted happily whilst sipping their tea, the conversation flowing easily.  
“Blod?” Patsy’s clear, crisp tones, “Delia has been telling me how you taught her to drive…”

Blod laughed “Ah yes! In my old Morgan… I would take her out in it when I visited the family back in Wales - and each time Delia came to visit me, we’d take her out for a spin. Delia has a natural talent with motorcars - it’s not just anyone that can handle Morag you know…”

Patsy raised her eyebrow’s “Morag…that’s the car, isn’t it?” then nodded to herself and added, “now I see where Delia gets it…”

Delia grinned, poking Patsy playfully in the ribs “See - I told you! …you have to name your car!” and then turning back to her aunt added, “I named ours Ellie.” 

Blod nodded her approval “Ellie the Elan - excellent!”

Blod turned to Patsy then, “Did she tell you she can ride a motorcycle too?”

At that revelation, Patsy hastily washed down her mouthful of biscuit with a gulp of tea.  
She cleared her throat, then apologised, “Sorry!…no she didn’t…” glancing at Delia, eyebrows rising again.

Delia looked bashful, “Auntie Blod taught me that too - but I don’t have a licence,” then she added cheekily “yet…”

Blod chimed in again “Oh! - how you loved whizzing along the lane out there on my little Triumph Tiger Cub…”

Patsy wasted no time in pouncing on that. “Wait! Don’t tell me…Tigger! …am I right?”

Blod clapped her hands “Yes! …how did you guess..?”  
She smiled at the memories, “I loved that little bike - there’s a story to that you know…”

Delia took the opportunity to pluck a custard cream from the plate of biscuits, then sat back, leaning comfortably into Patsy, ready to enjoy the familiar tale.

Looking at Patsy’s expectant expression, Blod took a sip of her tea and began.  
“When my father was conscripted and stationed in Burma during the last war, I felt I had to do my bit too. Delia’s Mam had joined the WVS - but that wasn’t really my cup of tea, so to speak… so, I moved to London and volunteered to drive the St John Ambulances. That’s how I learned to drive.” 

She paused and took another sip of her tea, before carrying on.  
“Then, I heard that the Blood Transfusion Service needed motorcycle couriers, and I put my name forward. Myself and the other volunteers - all young women - got a couple of days of training on the motorbikes, and then we were let loose!” 

She laughed and rolled her eyes, “It was terrifyingly exciting…racing back and forwards across London, between hospitals, dodging bomb-craters, delivering blood to wherever it was needed at all hours. Even during air raids… well, especially then, actually…”  
She smiled at the memories and added, “we had some hair-raising times, I can tell you… but also freedom. Such freedom as women - more than we’d ever had before.” 

Blod paused and sighed then, before continuing “When the war finished, I couldn’t quite go back to life as it was before - didn’t want to go back to Wales. I liked the buzz of the city too much, so I decided to stay here in London. I’d been well and truly bitten by the motorcycle bug by then, so I got myself the little Triumph Tiger Cub.”

Smiling wistfully then, she gazed out of the window towards the garage.  
“In a way, that sort of leads on to how I have Morag too. She was my father’s car. He didn’t make it back from Burma - killed in action. Mother couldn’t bear to part with the car, and since I was the only one of us who could drive, it passed to me. I love driving her. She reminds me of him…”

“Well then my darlings,” she said brightly then, turning back to the two women sitting before her, “I think your little car might also have a story behind it…?”

Delia nodded and began “Well, Patsy got us this car… you see, she inherited some money…” she paused, reached for Patsy’s hand and added softly, “...it might be better if you continue Cariad…?”

Patsy nodded gently and turned to Blod, “I think Delia must have told you that I was away in Hong Kong for most of last year, caring for my father?”

Blod nodded her face softening, “Yes sweetheart, she did - a difficult time for you both, I think.”

Patsy paused and glanced at Blod for a moment, as if trying to make a decision.  
She hardly ever spoke about her family, and only Delia knew the full details of what had happened in the PoW camp during the war. She wasn’t sure why, but it just felt right to tell at least some of the story to this remarkable older woman…

And then suddenly, still gazing at Blod, she realised why.  
It was her eyes. Blod had the same deep blue eyes as Delia. Glittering and full of love and compassion.

And so Patsy continued, hesitant at first, but then the story simply told itself in the end.  
“My family was torn apart during the war, when Japan invaded Singapore,” she began.  
“My mother, sister and I were separated from my father and we spent the rest of the war in a PoW camp. Conditions were terrible. We were starved - emaciated in fact - and disease was rife. Of the three of us, I was the only survivor.”

Blod’s hand flew to her chest and her eyes glistened.  
“Oh, my poor darling!” she exclaimed quietly.

Patsy smiled sadly and sipped her tea, before continuing, “When the war ended, I was eventually reunited with my father, but we were different people by then. Guilt and anger drove us apart and we gradually lost touch completely. Until that is, I was called to his death bed. I couldn’t refuse. I had to go. Delia helped me with that - I may not have let her know at the time - but she did.”

Patsy felt Delia squeeze her hand gently, and then she carried on “So, when my father died, I was his sole heir. He left everything to me in his will, under the proviso that I use it wisely for my future.”

Patsy smiled at Blod then, “Delia is the only thing I have left - she’s my future”.  
Then she laughed quietly “I know it looks completely mad - and it may not have been the ‘wisest’ use of our new funds - but that’s why I bought the car. I wanted Delia to know that I’ve dealt with a lot of things from my past, and that I really am ready now to be with her fully. That I’m ready and excited about our future.”

At that, Delia surged forwards and threw herself against Patsy, enveloping her in a tight hug. Then a second later, Patsy felt another pair of arms - and realised that Blod was hugging them both.  
They stayed like that for a few long moments, just hanging on to each other. Patsy was starting to run out of air when finally, Blod released them and flopped back into her chair.

“Oh my darlings!” Blod exclaimed, “the war touched so many of us in such terrible ways - and continues to do so”. Then she smiled and added, “but I believe it also teaches us to live for today - and to look to the future.”

She rose from her chair then, “I think you should introduce me to Ellie now - don’t you?”

_______________

All three women gathered round the little car, and Delia happily showed Ellie to a delighted Blod. Patsy stood back a little, watching the scene before her.  
She smiled to herself as the two women chatted animatedly over the car. They were so alike - with identical mannerisms - they could almost be mother and daughter.  
No, Patsy decided then - more like sisters. 

Delia was explaining to Blod why they needed to store the car here, “..it would just be a little difficult to explain to everyone right away…it would only be for a little while - maybe just a few weeks - until we find a place of our own in Poplar…”

Blod was nodding, “Of course, my dear - I’ll happily look after her for you”.

Patsy shook herself out of her musings and stepped forward, placing her hand on Blod’s arm “You know - we have a property in Brighton that we’re keeping. So, if you ever felt like a little holiday by the sea, just let us know…”

“Brighton you say?” Blod grinned then “…I may have to take you up on that - Whisky loves the seaside!”

Blod turned to Delia then, “Listen, I think we need to get Ellie under cover. It’s getting late and you two will need to catch a bus back to Poplar.” She bustled forward and opened the garage doors “I’ve shifted Morag over a bit - but you might still have to move one or two of those boxes…”

Patsy helped Delia fit the soft-top back on the car and retrieve their bags from the boot.  
As Delia set about parking Ellie in the garage, Blod took the opportunity to pull Patsy into a hug and whispered, “I’m glad it’s you. Delia has such a true heart, and I’m glad she’s found a safe haven for it. I’m so glad she’s found you”.

“I’m glad we found each other.” Patsy replied simply, tightening the hug.

Delia’s voice piped up then, “Hey you two - break it up! she grinned, “It’s not as if we’re never coming back…” and with a chuckle added, “…we’ve got to come back for Ellie, remember - you can’t have her forever Auntie Blod!” Then with feigned reluctance, she handed Ellie’s keys over to Blod.

Blod turned to Patsy, “Did I tell you she’s a cheeky monkey?”

“No,” Patsy smirked and added, “but I had already reached that same conclusion quite some time ago…” 

Blod pulled both women into a final hug, “Now, look after each other my darlings. You must live as freely as you can, do you hear? It’s 1963, times are changing - I can feel it...”

Delia and Patsy waved their goodbyes then, and promised to keep Blod up to date with their forthcoming flat-hunt.

_______________

It wasn’t too long before they found a bus back to Poplar.  
The two women sat on the deserted top-deck and watched as Sunday evening became Sunday night, marked by the streetlights flicking on and rushing by, as their bus wound it’s way through the hushed streets. They sat close, leaning comfortably against one another, Delia’s head gradually coming to rest on Patsy’s shoulder.

After a while, Patsy broke the relaxed silence.  
“Deels?”

“Mmm-hmm?” came the slightly sleepy response.

Patsy continued, “I was wondering - why do you think Blod never married?”

Her head still on Patsy’s shoulder, Delia replied “I have asked myself that same question over the years..”  
She lifted her head then, “I think it may be due to her experience of the war, and the independence she spoke of.”

Patsy nodded and then asked the other question that was refusing to go away.  
“Do you think she might be like us?”

Delia nodded, “I’ve also asked myself that…”  
She pursed her lips before continuing “…and honestly - I don’t know. I’ve never known her to be involved with anyone - male or female.” She paused for a moment in thought, and then added, “Maybe she never found the right person, or just never wanted to settle down… maybe she just enjoys her own freedom too much…”

Patsy nodded, “I can understand that…”

Delia straightened in her seat at that, her brows furrowing slightly.

Patsy smiled softly at the shadow of concern on her love’s face and put her arm around her shoulders, pulling the smaller woman close again. “Deels, the kind of freedom that I want is different,” she said, lifting Delia’s chin so that their eyes met, “I want the freedom to just be with you…” 

Then, without a second thought, she tilted her head down and took Delia’s lips in a gentle, lingering kiss.  
And she realised she didn’t care - the bus was empty. The driver probably wouldn’t be looking in his periscope-mirror at the upper-deck… and even if he was - she didn’t care!  
It was almost like a weight, lifting…

Patsy broke the kiss for a moment and whispered, “I want to take you home Delia - I want to go home with you every day.”

“Pats,” Delia replied in a hushed tone, “I can think of nothing better…” her lips brushed Patsy’s as she spoke, and then she closed the tiny gap and resumed the kiss.

In the end, it wouldn’t really matter where she ended up living, Patsy thought then.  
She’d already found her home.  
Delia.

_______________

THE END  
_______________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 Notes  
> _______________  
> WVS (Women’s Voluntary Services): Formed in 1938 initially to help recruit women into the ARP (Air Raid Precautions) movement assisting civilians during and after air raids by providing emergency rest centres, feeding, first aid, and perhaps most famously assisting with the evacuation and billeting of children.  
> By 1943 the organisation had over one million volunteers and was involved in almost every aspect of wartime life from the collection of salvage to the knitting of socks and gloves for merchant seamen.
> 
> Auntie Blod as a motorcycle courier for the Blood Transfusion Service: I got this idea from an article I read about the British actress Honor Blackman doing something very similar during the war - and I just thought it was hands-down the coolest thing!!… read it here: http://www.motorcyclenews.com/news/feature/2015/august/mcn-plus---picture-story-honor-blackman1/
> 
> The Triumph Tiger Cub: was a 200 cc (12 cu in) single-cylinder British motorcycle made by Triumph Motorcycles at their Meriden factory. Based on the Triumph T15 Terrier 150 cc, itself a surprise announcement just before the 1952 show, the 200 cc T20 Tiger Cub designed by Edward Turner and launched at the Earls Court show in November 1953 competed well against the other small-capacity motorcycles of the time, such as those using Villiers two-stroke engines.
> 
> The Japanese conquest of Burma: This was the opening chapter of the Burma Campaign in the South-East Asian Theatre of World War II, which took place over four years from 1942 to 1945. During the first year of the campaign, the Japanese Army (with aid from Thai forces and Burmese insurgents) drove British Empire and Chinese forces out of Burma, then began the Japanese occupation of Burma and formed a nominally independent Burmese administrative government.
> 
> The fall of Singapore: The fall of Singapore to the Japanese Army on February 15th 1942 is considered one of the greatest defeats in the history of the British Army and probably Britain’s worst defeat in World War Two. The fall of Singapore in 1942 clearly illustrated the way Japan was to fight in the Far East – a combination of speed and savagery that only ended with the use of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima in August 1945.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I thought this would be a little, short one-shot, but it kind of snow-balled as I was writing it.   
> This idea has been rattling around in my head ever since the 'Delia driving lesson' scene in S6.  
> I'm hoping I'm not the only one who thinks Delia strapped-in behind the wheel of a cool car is a hot idea...  
> As a confirmed petrol-head (so I've been told), I've had a lot of fun writing this little story. I have to admit that my main weakness is of the two-wheeled variety. However, I do have a long and abiding appreciation for a classic sports car, driven by a capable woman. That to me, really is poetry in motion :-)
> 
>  
> 
> More story notes:  
> \--------  
> Delia's birth date - I made it up. I don't know why, but I imagine her to be a spring baby.  
> \--------  
> Delia's Lotus Elan was launched at the 1962 British Motorshow in October, so Patsy might JUST have gotten her hands on one in time for Delia's birthday.  
> If you google '1962 Lotus Elan' you might see a yellow one in the images - does that car have Delia's name written all over it, or what - Patsy certainly thinks so ;-)  
> \--------  
> Definition of elan in English:  
> Elan (also élan) noun. Energy, style, and enthusiasm.  
> Synonyms: flair, stylishness, smartness, elegance, grace, gracefulness, poise, polish, suaveness, sophistication, urbanity, chic, finesse, panache, flourish, taste.  
> Origin: Mid 19th century: from French élan, from élancer ‘to dart’, from é- ‘out’ + lancer ‘to throw’.  
> \--------  
> Winter of 62/63: officially one of the worst winters on record in UK recent history.  
> I read somewhere that Heidi Thomas has written it into the upcoming Christmas Special...


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